The Great Escape
by theonlyxception
Summary: Jackie Clark. I knew that running into an old familiar face would be either a blessing or a curse.
1. Confessions

_How does anyone deal with a great deal of anxiety, but in their own way? _

For me I could no longer bottle up any of my anxiety any longer. Instead of seeing a good therapist, I was able to get a prescription. It was all too easy, and I certainly didn't have to fake any of it because I was living in the emotion. At the same time, that prescription was a way to numb all the pressure that I was under. I guess I could call it: the great escape.

Up until I moved to Fort Marshall, no one knew about it—not what few friends that I had left, and definitely not my husband or kids. And up until that time, my husband hadn't suspected that anything was up until I cut my runs with him in the mornings.

At the same time, I felt like this move was never going to make a difference. That was until I ran into Denise Sherwood—who I had met years ago at a different base. I knew that running into an old familiar face would be either a blessing or a curse.

At the time we had met, I had gone long past a pill addiction. There was a rumor going around that Kevin had an affair with his driver. We weren't sure how that had happened, besides by word of mouth from our rivals.

Instead of ruining our image, we let it go. We moved around enough that we didn't have to deal with it for long—besides the fact that we and our children soon knew the real explanation when they were old enough. And just like Kevin, my father was in the army and second best was never allowed—meaning that a rumor was better than letting us fall apart.

Now I was back to square one when I slowly began to turn to pills again. But this time, it was different when I almost had a disastrous breakdown. It made me think about everything I had been taught: finally killed the perfectionism in me when I realized that my father had been wrong.

Four amazing women taught me that: when they stood up for me the night of the banquet. They protected me, even though they didn't have to. I really didn't deserve their protection or their love, but I got it anyway.

They gave me something that I could never repay them for, or ever express in words—other than an explanation. So, I called each one of them—Denise, Claudia Joy, Roxy and Gloria—and invited them over to my house.

It took both the worry off my shoulders, and yet it made me nervous at the same time. My heart was pounding as I occupied myself until the late afternoon when the doorbell finally rang. Thankfully, I didn't have to wait for everyone to arrive because they all came at the same time.

I showed them the couch, and ended up standing behind the chair for about five minutes afterwards—like it would protect me from what I was about to tell them. I worried what they would think about me afterwards, even though I knew things couldn't get much worse than it was. I was sure to already be some kind of perfectionist monster who had moved into town.

Then I sat down and explained that the last time that I had turned to drugs was when Patrick had been in preschool and Sophie in diapers. Kevin had been deployed to Kosovo; my mother had been diagnosed with Parkinson's. Like any army wife, I felt like I was practically trying to raise our children while hitting rock bottom.

I understood that my husband was serving our country, but it was always better having him by my side. Sometimes I found myself wishing that I could rewind moments that he wasn't there—just for him. Wished that he could have comforted our children more in the middle of the night when they were scared, or when they were sick.

And then I was brought back to the present when I realized that most of the woman in this room, understood the extent of being alone. For once, I felt like I had real friends that could listen.

So, I told them my story. In return—I felt the warmth and love that I had wanted to feel for years. I knew for certain that I didn't have to rely on pills to make me happy.

For once my thoughts weren't wrong. Like anything else in my life, I didn't regret throwing those pills down the drain to start over. All the weight that I had carried on my shoulders for years had significantly loosened just because of the choice I had made and was making now.

It was a start. I didn't have to do this alone anymore, but it wasn't going to be easy. The perfectionist in me would always be there to mess things up, especially when I was sure to be getting the hang of things. The unexpected seemed to scare me a bit more than that.

Now that I had confessed, I was going to give them some time to process everything. Roxy and Gloria thanked me for my honesty before walking out of the house. Claudia Joy and Denise hung back quite a bit, so I knew what was coming next.

"Call if you need anything." Claudia Joy offered, stepping out onto the porch.

Denise looked at me like she wasn't quite convinced when I only nodded in appreciation; squeezing my hand in passing. "You will call if you need anything?"

"Of course." I offered a little too moderately, and I couldn't help but laugh when she tilted her head at my response. "You have my word. Besides—I happen to know that my next-door neighbor is a lawyer." I gestured over to Claudia Joy's house as Denise groaned and put her arm around Claudia Joy.

"Right." Claudia joy nudged her down the stairs with everyone else. When they were conversing to themselves, I closed the door.

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm thinking there will be at least another couple chapters that I'll be adding to this. I have a bit of a spin that I was going to use for another story, but it's possible that it could work for this one.


	2. Scars

_*{Look in these eyes; we know each other like our own skin and bones. We know the scars, how they got where they are, in places no else knows.}_

After the confession, I composed myself and began piling everything onto the platter for an easy clean up. My first thought being to wash everything, but I only ended up pushing everything onto the counter and walking back into the living room.

When I sat down on the couch with a sigh of relief, I felt a bubble of emotion come to the surface. They were no longer tears of sadness, but of relief that somebody else knew my secret.

I was amazed that every minute that went by, that I felt lighter and more carefree. At the same time, I felt exhausted as I rubbed my hands over my face.

It had been a couple days since the banquet, and since that time, I couldn't tell my husband about what had happened. I couldn't bear to utter the words about me almost being responsible for destroying his career—not just once, but twice now. The only difference was this time around—my little failure had actually turned our marriage around and pulled it into a different light.

Yet, I still didn't know where we were at. I knew that if I told him, he would want to send me back to a facility: to receive treatment and rid of all my drug habits.

I knew that he loved me, but his job always came first. And if that meant supporting me at a distance— that would be him looking at the big picture. But the more I thought about it, the more it made sense; every time I received the support from my friends, the more empowered I felt. The more I didn't feel like I needed a fancy private facility to mask my troubles in, because money didn't matter as much as friendship.

And it certainly wasn't rocket science that I had realized this all so suddenly. When that friendship and trust clicked into place, I suddenly began to wonder what I had taken for granted all these years.

Like usual, I had been thinking about this way too much. My eyes grew heavy and before I knew it, I was staring across my living room in a daze. It took a few minutes to wake up, and everything seemed fine until I stood up and had a lightheaded moment.

It disappeared just as quickly as it came, and I went into the kitchen to wash up the dishes. One by one I washed every cup and then the pot; drying it and storing it back in the cabinet.

As I was working on dinner, I heard the door open and my husband slipped into the house. He placed his keys in the bowl that we kept by the door, and appeared dressed in uniform.

Smiling, I went back to stirring the food as he padded into the kitchen. "Something smells good, because honey I'm starving."

"What you smell is my world-famous quiche. Long day?"

He took in a sigh, and it was right then that I knew that it had been. Actually, it almost seemed like a rhetorical question to ask, but he took in a deep breath and answered anyway. I knew that he couldn't really give me the specifics, but I was amazed that he gave me more than a one worded answer. "Like you couldn't believe." Stepping towards me, he kissed me on the cheek. "I'm going to take a shower. I'll be down in a few minutes."

"Okay." I leaned in, savoring the feel of his lips against mine: rough yet so tender. It had been so long since we had a meaningful kiss in our relationship and it felt so good, but still not enough.

Kevin had really been trying since the night of the banquet—to be more supportive, to give me space and to understand me more. We hadn't really talked about it since then, but I knew that he really meant it, just by the little things that he was doing every day.

I had known my husband long enough, to know that putting off his work was never an easy thing. As a result of it, was the first time that he had shown up in the kitchen to have a meal together.

As I slid the quiches into the oven, I realized that it had been a pretty quiet meal; neither one of us knowing what to say, and yet it had been so long since we had last communicated.

Letting out a sigh, I wondered if this would really last. If we would go through with visiting Savannah. If he would make good with his promise when just a week ago, there was absolutely no way that we could get away. The banquet had seemed to change so many things, without either one of us realizing why that was.

For me, it had been friendship. I had never thought that I would have ever been accepted; that I would have felt more human that I did now. For Kevin, it had allowed him to realize that I was just as much as a part of his life as his work.

Setting the timer, I poured myself a glass of wine and stepped out onto the patio. The warm air and silence felt good as I sat down in a reclining chair and watched as the trees swayed in the breeze.

I glanced at the timer every so often, and heard the door open behind me after about ten minutes later. My husband was now dressed in a grey army shirt and beat up jeans.

"The quiche already in the oven?"

"For about ten minutes. It has at least another twenty minutes to cook." I took another sip of wine. He surprised me again and pulled the other chair, closing the gap and sat down.

He took the glass into hand, and took a few sips before handing it back to me. "You've been kind of quiet since I got home. You still feeling sick?"

"I've just been thinking—about our trip and seeing Patrick and Sophie again. It's just been so long since they've seen us happy. Since we've actually gotten away—" Noticing the look on his face, I had almost believed that something had come up and changed his mind.

"It has been awhile, hasn't it?" He rubbed his thumb across his forehead a couple times, then dropped his hand to the side.

"I can't remember a time when we weren't going on a trip that had to do with the army—having our kids away from us going to college."

"How about the end of this week?"

"I think Claudia Joy and Denise are having surgery on Friday, so I offered to help with the FRG meeting."

"You know that we're competing against her husband for the third star."

"They're our neighbors, Kevin!" I pointed to the house beside ours, and took a rather large gulp of wine before standing. "And if you haven't realized it yet—I'm okay with that." With that being said, I went inside the house.

* * *

*_Up in the Stars-Swimming With Dolphins_


	3. Absence

*_[Life goes on. It gets so heavy, the wheel breaks the butterfly.]_

I thought about what I had confessed this afternoon, and wondered how quickly I could unravel. How quickly I could calm the urge to numb out the anger, with pills that I no longer had.

As I pushed the wine onto the counter, it sloshed some, but I didn't stop to clean it up. Instead I walked upstairs, and dug through my purse. When I found the container of tic tacs, I realized that it wouldn't be as satisfying when I popped a couple into my mouth, but did so anyway and walked into the bathroom.

I wasn't quite sure what I was going to do next. I thought about locking the door, but had a rude awakening after the fact that I couldn't quite catch my breath, and I couldn't imagine my husband finding me on the floor.

It would cause way too many questions to be formed, that I wasn't quite ready to answer. So I went to the next best thing and turned on the faucet, before splashing my face with cold water.

I thought about Claudia Joy and Denise—how they would need me to be strong as they both faced quite a major surgery ahead of them at the end of this week.

That meant that I couldn't suddenly just turn back to drugs. As much as I wanted them, I had met with an off-base doctor who had prescribed a schedule. I could slowly wean myself off the drugs. I had already taken my daily dose for the day, and was supposed to talk to a therapist on Wednesday. That was still two days to go and I already felt like I was falling.

In the bedroom, my phone was ringing. For once, I had no desire to answer it, and let it go on until it was silent again. I went on to dry my face with a towel that I pulled out of the drawer and looked at myself in the mirror.

I felt like crying, but I had absolutely no tears to give. I was pale and was no longer hungry: being both relieved and saddened when there was no sign of my husband as I pushed back the covers in bed, and lay down in the comfort of my home. The same home which held tension, sadness and secrets; creaked at the silence, like a moan that had been held in too long.

I don't know how long I had been lying there, when I finally let my eyes drift closed—or when I felt the covers warm the cold that had been lingering over my skin. I had been too numb to move to do it, and could only think of who was standing beside me as I fell into darkness.

When I woke, the sun was shining through the curtains. As I ran my hand over my husband's side of the bed, I found it long cold: which left me looking at the clock to see the time to be five minutes after ten-thirty in the morning.

I laid there momentarily, trying to think of the last time that I had slept in that long. Soon, I concluded that I hadn't slept in since high school or the end of college—since the days making to-do lists of everything that I had to do.

Speaking of to-do lists, I had missed a get together with Denise, Roxy and Claudia Joy this morning. We were supposed to go over some last minute things for the FRG meeting on Friday, since both Denise and Claudia Joy weren't going to be there for awhile.

I grabbed a quick shower, and started the coffee to go along with my cereal. I was drying my hair with the towel when my stomach started rumbling. It was already almost noon, but I still didn't feel like I could just skip breakfast.

Placing the towel around my neck, I ran the pick through my hair once more, before scrunching it a little and headed downstairs. I was beginning to feel better as I got a little food in me, but as soon as I stood from my chair, I had another wave of dizziness that caused me to grab a hold of the table.

At first I thought it was just a coincidence that I was getting these dizzy spells, but now that it had happened a second time, I wasn't so sure. It was worrisome, although I still had a lot to do today—yet I didn't feel like doing anything.

Recovering, I placed my bowl in the dishwasher and headed towards the back of house and outside for some air. As I did, I began to think of the causes: getting up too quickly, stress, sickness, exhaustion, or even my drug habit.

I thought the drugs that I took would elicit a reaction, but from the doctor's point of view, I shouldn't be going through—if any at all withdrawal symptoms—if I kept on schedule.

I was.

Walking slowly out the door, I walked to the other side of the house and got as far as the trees before I emptied the contents of my stomach. Just standing there hunched over, reminded me of the banquet all over again.

Slowly, I walked over to the side porch and sat down. We almost never used this place, which made it feel more secluded than usual. And just as I sat down, I heard a car door slam closed.

I didn't think much of what it meant, but continued to sit there like a mindless idiot. I began to shiver, the longer I sat. It hadn't been apparent at first—in fact I was pretty sure that I had blocked out how sick I felt, yet it almost all made sense: passing out on the couch, falling asleep early, lack of appetite and nausea.

_When was the last time I didn't actually want to drink my wine? _

That was probably my last logical thought, as I let my mind wander off. I was already sick of thinking, and I was cold. Very cold. Talking echoed through to the back of the house as I rubbed at my arm, then went up to my wet hair. I had almost forgotten that I had walked out of the house with a sleeveless shirt and jeans on. I was clearly not thinking at all.

"This is not like her Claudia Joy."

My mind went back to the slamming of the car door, echoing like it had just happened. Something in the back of my mind, told me that it hadn't. I stumbled out of my seat, and had somehow managed to make it to the trees before emptying my stomach again.

* * *

*Paradise- Coldplay


	4. Care

I heard the leaves crunching under their feet as they walked through the backyard. I knew that it was only seconds before they discovered where I was, so I turned around and walked back towards them.

I felt significantly better, but still slightly unsteady. I thought of what to tell them, but came up with nothing. Too late to turn around, and I hoped that it wasn't obvious that I was not feeling well, not drunk.

"Claudia Joy." I greeted, looking around the house. "Was that Denise I just heard?"

"Yeah." In quick strides, Denise appeared beside her as they shared a look. It wasn't hard to tell what they were thinking either. "We missed you at the meeting."

"Kevin and I got in an argument last night—"

Denise changed her stance, looking slightly uncomfortable. "Jackie, I have to ask. Are you—?"

"Drunk?" I intervened quickly; my thoughts going back to the night of the banquet. They both nodded, looking at me intently for a response. "I had a little sip of wine last night, but Kevin had just as much as I did. When we started arguing, I didn't even take the glass with me upstairs.

Claudia Joy chimed in, with certain gentleness. "Have you even told him about the pills?"

I let out a deep sigh, along with a shake of my head. "Kevin and I haven't really been eye to eye for awhile. Those notes from the meeting?"

"Yeah. We thought that since you weren't there—" Claudia Joy shrugged, handing me the file. I hoped that I could get them on another subject before I really had to explain. "We just thought that you could use the notes, since either Denise or I will be there for awhile."

I felt my body waver and looked up to see that glint in Denise's eye that said that it hadn't gone unnoticed. I felt like my knees were going to buckle, if I didn't sit down soon. "Thanks, I'll take a look at it." With the file in my hand, I felt their eyes on me as I walked the ten steps back over to the patio and sat down.

"I couldn't help but notice—are you sure you're feeling alright?" Denise inquired as I began flipping through the notes, I welcomed any distraction. My plan was destroyed, when I could no longer concentrate on the words in front of me.

"It's probably just a virus that I picked up somewhere. I would hate if either of you got sick because of it—especially before the surgery."

"As much as I'm flattered, I have to agree with Denise." Claudia Joy offered, folding her arms over her chest.

"At least let us make sure that you're okay, before we leave you alone in that house." Denise could tell that she was majorly concerned, and I knew that they wouldn't even think about leaving until I did.

I soon figured that it wouldn't hurt to have a little reassurance. So, I stuck out my arm and Denise sat down beside me with satisfaction.

Claudia Joy quickly suggested, "Why don't we go inside?" I could only nod as she grabbed one arm and Claudia Joy grabbed the other. They helped me into the house, and sat at the table while Denise took my pulse.

Picking up on the vibe, Claudia Joy spoke her name with some concern a few minutes later. "Denise?"

"Jackie, your pulse is faster than it should be. When's the last time that you ate or drank anything?"

I thought about it, but my thoughts still felt fuzzy. "I drank some water while I was making dinner."

"And what about eating?"

"I had some cereal after I woke up, but couldn't keep it down." I felt a shudder at the thought and absently rubbed at my arms.

"You cold?" This time it was Claudia Joy posing the question, as she then turned to Denise. "Could she be running a fever?"

Looking me over, Denise let go of my arm. "It's possible. Actually, I would be surprised if you weren't."

"Take it anyway?" Claudia Joy insisted with a shrug, moving towards the counter.

"Yeah. That way, we can at least make sure that we have a base temperature later on."

I should be the one that should be worrying. The two of you are about to have major surgery at the end of the week."

"Nonsense. Where can I find the thermometer?" Raising her eyebrow, she looked expectantly for an answer, anything she could use. Sighing, I pointed towards the cabinet right next to the oven.

"Lower right side of the cabinet."

It didn't take Claudia Joy more than a minute to find it. The thermometer was slightly rounded and you scanned it over the forehead to get a temperature.

"101.2"

"How long did you say you were outside?"

"I don't know. I walked over to the back porch and emptied my stomach. Sat down inside the patio and made it out just fast enough to empty my stomach again. That's when I heard you Denise outside."

"So probably no longer than ten to fifteen minutes." Claudia Joy chimed in, standing near the counter.

"Well, that's probably not long enough to raise your body temperature significantly, but you're most definitely running a low-grade fever."

"I appreciate the sentiment, but really I'm fine." I stood from the chair and grabbed a glass from the cabinet. As I filled it up, I noticed that my hand was shaking as I filled it up with water.

"Have you seen yourself in the mirror lately?" Denise inquired, not meaning to overstep, but she was looking at me like I had just grown horns.

"What Denise is trying to say is that you look really sick, and we're concerned."

I took a sip and looked towards the ceiling, before walking over to them. "I know you are. It's just that no one has ever been this concerned, and I've managed to concern everyone in the last two days."

"I think that's what we call being human." Denise laughed, as Claudia Joy nodded right alongside her. The care they showed for me, made me smile. And alright—it made me feel a little better too.


	5. History

After an hour of lying down, I came downstairs to see Claudia Joy in the kitchen, flipping through a magazine.

"Claudia Joy—you really didn't have to stay. I'm sure that you have other things to do."

"Nothing that I can't do from a phone." She held it up, and then placed it back on the table. "Feeling any better?"

Absently, I rubbed at my neck, while grabbing a drink of water from the faucet. I noticed that my hands weren't shaking as much as before, and took that as a sign that I was on the mend. "Depends on your definition of better." Looking around, I finally noticed that Denise wasn't there. "When did Denise leave?"

"She went to relieve the babysitter, just after you went upstairs to lie down. But she did tell me she would call later on, to see how you were doing."

"Of course." The air grew silent between us. I don't think either of us knew what else to say. Once we were rivals, but now friends. It always amazed me just how quickly things could change.

"Jackie?"

"Yeah." I read the look on her face, and expressed a quiet response. "I'm fine, Claudia Joy—really. I was actually just thinking how good it is to have friends again." The inflection in my voice seemed to catch her eye.

Walking over to the table, she placed a supporting hand over mine. "I know things didn't get off to the perfect start—but I hope you know that you are always welcome."

"I know that now." Giving her an appreciative glance, I went on." My father always had this saying that went something like: always put your best foot forward—which basically meant nothing should be second best. That included the best schools, friends—you name it. Yet, I didn't really start thinking about it until after I was married; how I had such a privileged life."

The reason I thought about it so often, was I felt like after I met and married Kevin—took on his name and had his children—I watched as history repeated itself.

"We all want what's best for our children. But a lot of times we put our own happiness to the side. When Amanda died, I felt torn and thought that I could never be happy again."

I could tell that it still hurt to talk about the loss of her daughter. Claudia Joy had been through so many things, that it didn't seem fair that she was going through yet another trial at the end of this week.

"You okay?"

Rubbing absently at my forehead, I looked up at her. "Just a headache."

"I can leave, if you want to go lay down."

"I think I will, actually. If you don't mind?"

"No, not at all." She stood up from her chair and grabbed her purse from off the counter."Just promise me one thing?"

"Yeah."

"No more outside trips, and if you need anything you call. If I don't hear anything from you, I'm coming back over. Do you want me to try and get hold of Kevin?"

"No. He should be coming home around seven. I'll just lie down until then and hopefully my headache and fever will go down."

Clearing her throat, Claudia looked at her watch. "That's still eight hours away. You're sure that you're going to be okay until then?"

"Yes. If I don't call you in a couple hours, feel free to come back over. "

Watching as I went upstairs, Claudia Joy had one hand on the doorknob. Just as I was lying down, I heard the front door close. I sighed in relief, especially at the decreased pounding in my head.

Sadly, it was enough to distract me enough from going back to sleep. It took another twenty minutes before I could grab the energy to go into the bathroom and run the water for a bath.

By the time that I had got in, I had almost drifted off to sleep a few times. The second time, I heard a car door close outside and Kevin calling my name.

Listening, I finally heard his heavy footsteps on the steps, as I tried to get up, but was shaking considerably now. I figured that I would wait a few minutes, and then have Kevin help me.

"Jackie?"

"In here." He padded into the bathroom, still in uniform. He closed the door behind him, even though it was just the two of us living here.

"There was a message on my desk that said I should call you, but you never picked up. What's going on Key?"

I looked almost confused as him as I held out my hand and he pulled me out of the water. Grabbing the towel, he handed it to me and I wrapped it around my body. "What message? I never called you."

He shrugged, still holding onto me as I almost fell. "Easy." He guided me over to the bed to sit. "Then if you didn't call, who did?"

"Honestly Kevin, I don't know. When I didn't show up for a meeting today, Denise and Claudia Joy showed up at our door." Holding the towel tighter, I tried to find balance again, but was failing miserably.

"What meeting?"

My head felt like it was spinning. Really, I couldn't handle another potential argument with my husband. "We were supposed to go through a few minor things while Denise and Claudia Joy are recovering."

"Right. Have you eaten anything today?"

"Cereal. But then I couldn't keep anything down."

"That's all? Jackie, it's almost one in the afternoon." He brushed his hand over my forehead, and frowned. I had never seen him to attentive. "Then you already know that you have a fever?"

"Yeah. It's not my fever that I'm worried about. My head is killing me."

"Have you taken anything yet?"

"No." I said it all a little quickly and slightly panicked. I was afraid that I would have to explain why I was refusing to take anything. "I just want to sleep." If emphasizing, I nuzzled my head into the pillow.

I was drifting off when I heard him reenter the room. It was a slightly odd feeling that I hadn't heard him leave. As he walked over to the bed, I heard him set something down on the nightstand, before a beeping sound echoed through my slightly frazzled nerves.

I could tell that he wasn't convinced: that he had decided to take my temperature anyway. The next thing I knew, he was muttering, "102.1" and shaking my shoulders and telling me to open my eyes.

"Mmm…" A simple moan was all I could muster, before my world went black.


	6. Need

"Thanks for coming over." Kevin offered, closing the door behind them. "I'm sure you have better things to do besides making house calls."

"What's going on exactly?"

He gave a relentless sigh. "Jackie told me that you and Claudia Joy helped her earlier."

"We did."

"Jackie's fever has gone up, but she refuses to go to the doctor. I thought you might be able to talk some sense into her."

As they walked up the stairs, I could hear everything as I leaned up against the bed. Having the door open definitely had its perks. Of course I was too stubborn to admit how sick I really was, but I knew that something was up when my husband answered my phone in the other room.

"How high did you say her temperature was?"

"102.1. I just took it again just a few minutes ago—it hasn't lowered since about one."

"Okay, I'll see what I can do. Give us a minute?"

"Sure."

I could hear the reluctance in Kevin's voice, among the soft steps of Denise as she appeared at the door.

"Denise."

"Kevin told me you won't go to the hospital? " Nodding, I adjusted my pillow behind me. She closed the door so that we could have a little privacy, and sat next to me on the bed. "Why?"

"I've never had a need to go to the hospital, except for checkups and my drug habit."

"If you're afraid that he's going to find out, why not tell him?

I pursed my lips together. "It's like remembering my failures all over again."

"You know, Frank was a lot like Kevin was. Always working and never home. I remember feeling really lonely—especially when Frank was deployed. Working at the hospital always made it a little better, but then I met a really nice guy and one thing led to another—the point of the story is that Frank forgave me for what I did, and things changed between us."

"I'm glad that everything worked out between the two of you, but Kevin and I—we've always been a little distant." I let my eyes close shut for a moment. "We've never had that spark that other couples had, but I married him anyway because I loved him."

"I've dealt with a lot of patients: their spouses and partners as a nurse, and trust me when I say that your husband is looking a little bit terrified."

"Mm…"

"He also said that you passed out, which means that you got worse after Claudia Joy left."

I opened my eyes to see her watching me closely. "I started feeling really dizzy after I took a bath."

"Jackie, have you taken anything or had anything to drink since I left?"

It was a simple answer. "No." Her fingers were instantly at my wrist again, taking my pulse.

"Dehydration could be causing your headache, and your headache could be causing your sensitivity to light. Because your fever is climbing and you can't keep anything down—in addition to not taking anything in—it's causing your body to become more and more dehydrated."

"I don't feel like drinking anything."

"Tell you what. . . I have to go to work in a couple of hours. If you can't keep something down before then to get that fever down, then you can come with me and we'll hook you up to a nice IV pump."

"Fine."

"I'll be right back with some Tylenol." I watched as Denise walked out of the room and kind of spaced off, until I heard her walking up the stairs again. She had some crackers and a glass of water in her hand as she placed the crackers and pill in my hand.

I slowly nibbled on some crackers, and she handed me the pill. My hand was shaking slightly as I put it in my mouth and took a few sips of water—to which she encouraged me to drink a little more. When I had drained about half of the water, I placed it back on the nightstand.

Within a few minutes, I began to space off again. We made some small-talk, while I drained the rest of my water. I was thirstier than I realized, and was able to keep that down and about a third of the package of crackers.

We talked about many things, including how we first met. Pretty soon we had been sitting there for a half an hour. Slowly, I was starting to feel a little better and Denise announced that my temperature had gone down. But just barely. I was down to an even 102 degrees. After that I slowly drifted off for the next half hour.

Denise had suggested a wet washcloth to help push the fever down even further. Now after an hour, I was down to 101.8. When she shook me awake to take my temperature and to take in more fluids, I drained the whole glass this time. At the same time, a part of me felt relieved that I was keeping everything down, while the rest of me felt exhausted.

I went back to sleep right after that, only waking when Denise finally switched places with Kevin.

"It's probably going to be awhile before her fever breaks, but the good thing is that it's going down. She should probably see a doctor in the morning—regardless if her fever goes up again. But if her symptoms worsen in any way, bring her in right away."

"So you're saying Jackie will be alright being home . . ."

"The most worrisome thing was that her temperature was rising significantly fast. As long as it stays down; her symptoms don't worsen or linger—and she's able to keep down fluids—as well as keep down food that her body can digest and adequate rest, her body should be able to heal."

By the way that she was looking at me, I knew that was going to be harder than it looked. Kevin knew it too, because he was exactly the same way. Often times he would be down in his office or in bed doing paperwork that he had brought home with him.

"What about the meeting?" I asked, trying to gather my thoughts before she left the room.

"We'll take it one day at a time and see how you're doing after a full night's rest. Until then, it's really important that you take it easy, mostly so you don't end up relapsing or making the sickness worse." She looked at her watch reluctantly. "I should really get going. Call me if anything changes?" With a few nods from both me and Kevin, she left.


	7. Kevin

_*{I can see it in your eyes—I know you too well. You know I can tell you're hiding something inside.}_

When I woke again, the lamp was dimmed in the room. Kevin was sitting beside me in the chair, turning over the washcloth for probably the umpteenth time.

Denise had been right about him being worried. "Kevin."

"Right here, Key." I turned to look at the clock, then back at him. It was almost midnight and yet he was still sitting beside me. The thought that he was being so gentle, almost made me cry—not because it surprised me, but it made me feel even worse not telling him about taking the pills.

It reminded me of the first time. Kevin had a few days off after he returned home from Kosovo. Like usual, he walked into the bathroom with a question about Sophie, only to see me popping pills and the orange bottle sitting on the counter.

Now, I could only swallow hard at the memory. "You feeling okay?"

"I'm not—"

"What can I do?" He literally looked like he would hop up from his chair, and carry me like a knight would carry his princess to safety. It made my stomach knot up— the words on the tip of my tongue.

"You can forgive me." My words were filled with thick emotion. It was hard to tell if it was the sickness talking right now, or me. All I knew was that I needed the strength to get the words out.

Even in the dark, I could see the lines crease on his forehead; his expression changing from worried to perplexing. "I can't forgive you for something that I don't know about. What are you not telling me?"

My mouth felt dry all the sudden as I pointed over to the dresser. "In the bottom drawer, tell me what you see."

He looked at me warily. "Jackie—"

"Just do it." I was near tears and I was afraid that if he pushed even more, I was going to lose it right there. I gave him the most convincing stare until he reluctantly moved from his chair over to the dresser.

His hand slowly rummaged through the drawer, until his actions slowed. I closed my eyes and listened to the silence—until he spoke again. He returned with an empty pill bottle in his hand. "How many did you take? "

"It's not like that—"

"Then what's it like, Jackie?" His jaw was tightened, as he held the bottle; glancing at as if it were poisonous. "Is this the reason why you didn't want to go to the hospital?"

I sat up with uneasiness, more in irritation than I could accomplish lying down. "I'm meeting with an off-base doctor."

"An off-base doctor?" He repeated, almost incredulously. "Jackie, why didn't you tell me? You know what we've been through this once already—"

Honestly, I didn't want to be reminded, and just remembering made me even more irritated. "I know!" I pushed a little too harshly, and then softened as I looked into his eyes. "I took them to numb the pain and anxiety when you're deployed; to block out the fact that we're far away from our kids, and sometimes it just me in this big empty house."

Walking over to the bed, he sat down on the chair and ran his hands over his face. The room was completely silent, but only for a moment while he took everything in.

"You're my rock, Jackie. I don't think I could ever tell you that enough. Everything you do, and everything you put up with. You practically raised our children alone, and have always kept the house together, no matter where we are."

A tear slipped down my cheek. "I needed to hear that." I whispered, so only he could hear it: as we weren't the only ones in the room. Rounding the bed, he sat down beside me and wrapped his arm around me.

With a yawn, I let my head rest against his shoulder. I stared into the darkness for the longest time, when he leaned down to kiss the top of my head. My hand found his and I squeezed it, before I nuzzled in and closed my eyes.

I felt so comfortable that I didn't want to open my eyes, but did anyway. The lamp was still dimmed, and I was a little disappointed that it had only been a couple hours since falling asleep.

Kevin was leaning against the bed post, eyes closed. I gazed at the orange pill bottle and sighed, before quietly shutting the door behind me. My movements were slow and deliberate as I walked down to the kitchen.

The light flickered on, illuminating the room. Running my fingers through my hair, I quickly washed my hands and decided to make some toast. I wasn't sure that I would be able to eat much of it, but it was worth a try.

I took it plain, sitting down at the table. I took careful bites and chewed until the toast was half gone. By time that I was finished it was now three A.M., and I was throwing the rest of my food into the trash.

Turning off the kitchen light after putting my dishes in the sink, I went into the living room and curled up with a good book and blanket—which killed another couple hours. I placed the book on the coffee table, after I could no longer read the words in front of me.

The next thing I knew, I was waking up to the sun shining through the window. I sat up and felt the house's silence. Relief came first; then a slight sadness washed over me as I realized that today was a new day, and everything from the night before felt like a dream.

I knew it hadn't when I saw that I was still lying on the couch—the book that I had been reading was still there on the coffee table. The only thing that was missing was Kevin.

Peering into the kitchen, it was empty. My heart sank a little as I wandered upstairs to the bedroom—also empty. Then I peered into the bathroom and I saw Kevin shaving in the sink.

I walked into the bathroom; wrapping my arms around him, taking in his scent of aftershave and soap. At nine o'clock in the morning, I definitely had expected him to be at work.

"Morning." I greeted, peering curiously over his shoulder.

"I woke up to find you gone. How'd you sleep?"

Nuzzling at him apologetically, I gave him a smile. "I woke up around two, so I went down to the kitchen and ate some toast—then read for a little while."

"You do look like you're feeling better."

"A little. But I'm ready to do something."

"You can do something."

"What did you have in mind?" Letting my chin rest on his shoulder, I watched his expression changed in the mirror.

"You can go with me to your doctor's appointment." I frowned slightly as he turned around to feel my forehead. "Just what I thought—you're still feverish."

"Kevin—"

"Ah. No buts. Tell me right now, how long would you like to be feverish and stuck in this house? Pretty soon you're going to be hunting around for your binder and making phone calls."

"Is this about last night?"

"This about you not getting any better."

"It's only been a day."

He drained all the water out of the sink, as it sucked in a whirlwind down the pipes. "You're just lucky that Denise came over when she did. I would have taken you sooner, but you were protesting up a storm. I forgot how you get when you don't feel well."

As I retreated back into the bedroom, I called over my shoulder, "Oh, it's not over yet."

* * *

*Somewhere Love Remains- Lady Antebellum


	8. Admit

_*{You know I won't say sorry. The pain has a bad reaction—a blend of fear and passion.}_

It turned out that my appointment was at eleven o'clock. So, I took my time getting ready—lingering over every moment and willing time to stop.

"Jackie?" Kevin knocked on the door, jiggling the handle to no avail. I had locked the bathroom door after he had gone out, so he wouldn't rush me. It was now a half hour past ten and I knew that I was pushing it, but I turned on the hair dryer and imagined him sighing in irritation.

I then dressed in a red sleeveless shirt and a black sweater, with jeans and red flats. It was possible that I wouldn't be getting anywhere near an FRG meeting any time soon, but I certainly wasn't going out of the house looking drab.

Knowing that it probably wasn't the best thing to lock the door, I emerged and went downstairs. Kevin was sitting at the table, reading the newspaper. Already dressed in jeans and an army t-shirt, from his usual uniform that he often wore, I knew that he was serious about taking me to my appointment. I wasn't sure when the last time it was that Kevin had taken off work.

Taking one look at me, he stood without even folding the newspaper first. I was pretty sure that it wasn't because I was looking beautiful—no, I felt like crap. I finally had to admit that to myself, even though I didn't want to. Just by the look he was giving me, I knew that I didn't have to admit anything to him either.

Catching me just as my knees buckled, he scooped me up and placed me in the car. There wasn't so much as a protest on my end as we took off. It was clear that Kevin was doing everything in his power to show me that he had changed.

"Hang in there, Key." He told me after glancing at me every few minutes. I found myself too tired to reassure him, and instead I turned my head to watch the passing scenery out the window.

With one hand on my stomach, I felt every bump as my stomach lurched forward. It took all my remaining strength to not spill everything in the car as we finally parked in front of the hospital.

"Kevin."

Rounding the car, he opened the door on my side. I felt for the buckle and undid it as he helped me out. I wouldn't let him carry me as I walked over to the nearest trash can and emptied my stomach.

"Think you'll be okay here while I go in?" Nodding, I gagged into the trash can.

He left, only to return with a nurse with short black hair and a wheelchair. They helped me sit and the nurse wheeled me in, with Kevin right beside me. We were taken to a private room to wait for the doctor.

I was asked a series of questions that had everything to do with medication to the symptoms that I was experiencing. As she did, my temperature and blood pressure were taken along with it. We were left alone, with promises that the doctor would be in a few minutes.

I took the time to lie down on his lap, instead of the bed. "You know the bed would be a lot more comfortable." Tucking my arms in, I felt more peaceful than before as I looked up at him.

"Did you call Denise?"

He looked towards the door. "I left her a message. You do know that she's going to tell Claudia Joy, and Claudia Joy will tell whoever else—"

"I know." I answered, even though the thought hadn't really occurred to me. In fact, I really didn't have any time to think about it further when the door opened.

"General Clark—how are we doing today?" The doctor with brown hair greeted as she looked over the chart, and closed the door behind her. She was dressed in a blue shirt with a multi colored skirt underneath her white coat. "I see that we're dealing with some sickness today."

"Jackie. My wife has been sick since last night."

"Hi Jackie, I'm Dr. Landry." She pulled up a seat as I sat up. "Your husband and I used to be neighbors a long time ago—so I've seen you've had some tiredness, weakness, dizziness, vomiting, loss of appetite—anything else that I should be aware of before I take a look at you?" She looked from me to him with expected anticipation.

I exchanged a glance with Kevin. "Jackie's also passed out a couple times." Dr. Landry noted that on the chart with a concerned nod.

"Anything else I need to know that you think is important?"

We exchanged another glance and I saw the look in his eyes. I strongly willed him not to talk about the medication. "No."

"Alright. Then let's have you take a seat here on the bed, Jackie—and I'll take a look at you." Slowly getting up, I carefully sat against the bed. "I'm going to go ahead and have you sit up so I can check your pulse and breathing."

"Take in a deep breath in for me—"I obliged, and focused on taking slow steady breaths as she moved the stethoscope around. "Again." And then moved it once more. "And one more deep breath in. Good. It sounds like your heart is pumping pretty quick. I know you said that you had a los off appetite, but a lot of times when I hear this kind of this, it's because a patient isn't taking in enough fluids."

"Is that what's causing Jackie's symptoms?" Kevin inquired, sitting forward in his chair.

"Some of the symptoms that she's experiencing could easily caused by dehydration." Dr. Landry offered, taking the cuff and wrapping it around my arm. "Of course, there could also be an underlining condition, so I would like to do some tests, just to make sure that we're not missing anything."

It was quiet while she took my blood pressure and noted something on the chart, and then announced that she would have the nurse come in and take some blood and a urine test. Dr Landry informed us what she would be testing for, before excusing herself.

Dryly licking my lips, I leaned my head back against the bed. "You look nervous."

"A little." Looking around the room, all around me were plain white walls. "I just want to get out of here."

"I have to say Jackie—I'm glad we're here. Not because I want you to be here, but you scared me when you stopped moving or almost passed out in my arms. I can't do that. . . I can't lose you again."

The way he said that, made me sit up. He sounded haunted, which is more than he ever let me know about when he was deployed, or when I had gone to rehab for the first time. Still, I had a feeling that he was referring to both instances.

I wanted to know where that all came from, but we weren't in the right place to talk about it. I was beginning to think of everything that we had never talked about in our marriage; the little things that we went around just so we could avoid it. I guess now was just one of those times, where it was all coming back to us.

* * *

*Start the Machine- Angels & Airwaves


	9. Results

_*{We are just stories, here's mine to tell. Give my heart freely, hope you keep it well.}_

Kevin James Clark had never been an emotional guy, or one to talk out his emotions very often. Like his dad—who I had met many times during our marriage—Kevin was more the silent and manly type. He didn't truly start showing affection until after Sophie had been born.

He had been proud when Patrick had played with GI Joes, and had a love of airplanes of all kinds. When Sophie came along: she truly had him wrapped around his finger.

She had often cried for her daddy when he wasn't there, which often made days and nights difficult. I remember being in the other room when the two of them had finally sat down together to talk. The words he spoke to her that day, never left my mind.

"Do you remember what you told Sophie when she was afraid of you deploying?" I asked, intertwining my fingers with his.

"She was what . . . three?" I nodded back, as I fought the tiredness. "All I remember was you begging me to talk to her. "

"You said. . . Sophie, I will never leave your heart—no matter where I am."

He straightened slightly, as if he were recalling the memory. "Be good for your mother because she's part of my heart too." Their daughter's eyes had had lit up, her arms wrapping around his neck.

"We raised some pretty good kids, Jackie. I wish that I could have been there more—for them and for you. "

"Even when they were little, they knew that you had a duty to our country. They are proud of you Kevin."

"They're proud of you too, Jackie."

I closed my eyes and sighed. "Patrick liked to try and take his toy cars with him to school, and I would make him leave them in the car. He would get so mad that his face would turn beet red. That was until I told him that he would be able to play with them on the way home. Sophie would refuse to get in her seat, and would cry the whole way over." Choking on my words, I knew these were some of the things that I knew that Kevin had never heard. "I didn't always feel like a good mother."

"Jackie, why didn't you ever tell me how you really felt? Why didn't you ever tell me that you felt alone?"

"It was my job to make sure that you never worried. I didn't want something at home to affect what you were doing there when you were deployed. I wanted you to come home safe and sound. . . I knew that Patrick and Sophie wanted their father to come home to them too. I needed them to know that you were okay, and that nothing was going to happen to you." By this time tears were streaming down my face. "When I didn't hear from you for days, I would tell them that you were okay."

Pulling me into a hug, Kevin held me tight. All the years of emotions that had been tightly spun into a web of strength, I finally was able to release all of it. He sighed into my neck as I cried for what seemed like hours that were only minutes.

I tapered off; finally worn down as we held each other close. Somehow, I wished that we were in the safety of our own home, where no one could hear our ongoing battles. I felt ashamed that I had broken down, but it felt so good that I never wanted these moments of closeness to end.

Finally there was a knock on our door, and we had both fully expected it to be Dr. Landry with the test results. When the door opened, we were both surprised to see Denise standing there.

I wiped my tears with the back of my hand. "I can come back." Kevin exchanged a glance with me and slid off the bed, leaving us alone.

"Here." Denise handed me a few tissues, holding onto the box as she sat down in the seat next to the bed. "I can't help but ask . . . is everything alright between you and Kevin?"

I swallowed, as I wiped the tears from my cheeks. "I told him about the pills."

"Just now?"

Shaking my head, I went on. "Last night. I've never seen him so gentle, and I burst out into tears when I told him to look in the bottom drawer to find the empty bottle. I don't know what's gotten into me."

"There are things Frank never knew, until after Jeremy died and I had Molly. It's not easy balancing the army and home life, Jackie. That's why we have each other, and you need to know that you can come to us for anything. It takes a lot of courage to do what you did, and I'm proud of you for that. What happened to the pills?"

"The night of the banquet, Roxy and Gloria had taken me home. I was trying to get some work done, and Kevin called to say that the army had been exonerated from any wrong doing and that he wouldn't have been able to have gotten this far in his career if it weren't for me. I got up and took the pills out of my purse and threw them down the drain."

Denise smiled. "You deserve all the happiness that life can give you. Did they start you on a withdrawal schedule?"

"Yeah. I take enough to last me for the day, and slowly I'm working through it."

Good. When we all recover, we should together and do something that we would all enjoy."

"I don't think I ever said this before . . . but I really could really go for a vacation right now." Sitting on the edge of the bed, she patted my leg.

"Hang in there. In the meantime, I think they probably have your results by now—and I should get back to work. I'm hoping that you won't still be here in a couple hours, but if you are, I'll stop in before I leave."

"Thanks."

"I'll see where Kevin is at." With one more reassuring smile, she left and Kevin and the doctor entered. Thankfully they must have been nearby the room, talking.

"Okay Jackie—we have some good and bad news." Dr. Landry added as Kevin wandered back over and sat down in the chair beside the bed. I took in a sharp intake of breath. "You have a certain food poisoning called Salmonellae—you're also mildly dehydrated, which is causing some of your symptoms and making them feel worse than they are. I would like to keep you at least overnight and start you on some fluids, so we can replace those that you've lost. I would also like to start you on some anti-vomiting medicines and a fever-reducer that should help so your body can rest and recover quicker."

"What about when she gets released?"

"If everything goes as planned, I can probably release you tomorrow morning or afternoon, but I would advise taking it easy for the next one of two days afterward. With food poisoning you can start to feel better and then overdo it—only to end up right back here again."

I intertwined my fingers with him again. He looked slightly relieved that I had to stay put for a little while, but I wasn't exactly thrilled that I was spending the night. But if it helped me recover quicker, then I was all for getting back on schedule.

* * *

Life In Letters- Lucy Schultz


	10. Hope

The anti-nausea medicine seemed to work its magic. I felt so much better than the last day or so. I was able to keep down more than just liquids, and the occasional bits of food. Kevin arrived later in the afternoon with a bag, and I changed into something more comfortable: a red shirt and jeans.

I was tolerating all the fluids; my fever had finally broken during the night. For lunch I was able to keep down some broth and applesauce, and because I had been vomiting and hadn't eaten a whole lot of food for the past couple days, I was still feeling slightly weak as I got up and dug through the bag on the floor.

Looking up from his phone after stepping out momentarily, he inquired. "What are you looking for?"

"My phone. I asked you to pack it so I could cancel that doctor's appointment."

Another click of his phone, it was back in his pocket. "I didn't pack your phone, because it's already cancelled."

"Did they call? Or did you cancel it?"

"I cancelled it on my way here." He paused as he sat down. "You are going to make another appointment later on?"

"Of course." Rubbing at the back of my neck, I could feel the knot from sleeping in a hospital bed. Even just thinking about it, made me long for my own bed. "I just need to get feeling better first." The excuse felt lame to my own ears as I stood and walked back over to the bed.

"Did you never think that I would find out about the drugs? If you didn't take them, where did they go?" His voice was meant to sound demanding, but concern for the answers seemed more important at the moment.

I gave an absent shrug. "After the banquet, you called and I threw them down the sink."

"So that whole excuse that Denise told me?"

I paused, gathering what I was going to say next as I sat down on the bed. "I had too much to drink that night and I was anxious about everything working out, so I took some pills with some wine—" Kevin immediately groaned in response. "I went home and threw the pills down the drain after you called. We were fighting right before the banquet, and I didn't know what else I could do."

"You could have talked to me."

"You don't listen!" Somewhere inside, I knew that if I had still been hooked up to a heart monitor, it would have been beeping wildly at the choice words we were throwing out at each other. The room was tense but quiet as a knock on the door was heard.

It was the nurse who had been taking care of me while on shift. Her brown hair waved slightly as she closed the door behind her. "I was just checking to see how everything was in here."

"We're fine."

She didn't look like she believed it, but quickly looked over my chart. "Since you've improved significantly over the night, Dr, Landry wanted to come in and discuss discharging you."

"When will she be down?"

"She's making her rounds with some of her other patients, but I would assume within the hour. If everything goes smoothly, I'd say you could be out of her within a couple of hours."

"And the IV?"

"We'll take that out for you right before you're discharged." Looking up at the clock, the nurse checked over the chart and then closed it again.

"Thanks."

"I'll be back to check up on you in a little while, and when Dr. Landry comes in as well. It just depends on how quickly she can get down here." With that final note, they were left alone. Either the nurse was very busy, or felt very uncomfortable being in the same room as us, but there was still a tension lingering in the air because our sudden argument.

Kevin ran his hands over his face, and I hoped that he was finished with work for the day—even though he probably wasn't. He would probably be spending all week just trying to catch up for taking time off, because of me. Suddenly I felt so guilty.

"Do you have to go back to work?"

He retracted a breath, and I felt my stomach flutter in anticipation. "No, I'm finished for today, but I might go in early tomorrow." I felt a rush of relief that he wasn't leaving, but I could see how much it tormented him. The question on his mind was, _should I go to work, or stay with my wife? _His words were on the tip of his tongue, even though his mind was already made up.

After that, we didn't talk much. Kevin helped me pack what belongings I had brought along, and we waited until Dr. Landry discharged me. I hardly noticed the garbage can that I had lost my breakfast over, until he was holding me steady as I got into the car.

"Thanks."

"I hope you get feeling better, Jackie." The nurse waved, then turned and walked back into the hospital. "Call if you need anything." Kevin closed the door, giving a slight wave as he hopped into the driver's seat.

We weren't even to the first light, before he was glancing over at me. "Look, Jackie—I know I work a lot, and it hasn't been easy on you, but I can't read minds. So if you have something to say, then say it."

"You don't listen." I continued from our earlier conversation. "I could never ask you to stop working so much. I'm proud of what you do—but our marriage has never been first priority. You never asked how it felt to battle with our children, or sit at the table alone. Sometimes I feel like the only thing that matters, is the army."

I thought for certain that we were going to have another argument, as I watched Kevin tense up; his fingers drumming on the steering wheel. Instead, I was met with silence, until we got halfway home. Not daring to speak, I occupied myself with all the things I had to do this week. When I ran out of ideas, I proceeded to stare out the window.

"You're right. I never asked how it felt. Sometimes I feel like you know our kids better than I do."

"They knew why you were gone, Kevin."

"You know the only way I could get through deployment was thinking of you every night? Thinking about our kids—what they were up to. If I would see them graduate college, or walk with Sophie at her wedding." Watching the road with cautious hope, we stopped at a red light. I began noticing the streets were becoming more familiar, the closer we got to home.


	11. Boundaries

As we walked into the house, I sighed in relief. It felt so good to be home, but at the same time I was looking forward to a good night's sleep. Between the necessary checkups from the nurses, having a fever and food poisoning—were just some of the reasons that I was exhausted in the first place.

Of course, I was also told that I took on too much. I never believed it to be true, until this moment. When I was surrounded by friends, and realized that never accepting second best wasn't always the greatest option.

Now I walked into the house with my husband, as he grabbed my hand to pull me back. "You know I married you for better or worse. It seems like we've had worse days than better."

"Is this your way of apologizing? Because if you are, then it's working."

He sighed, as he closed the distance between us. "You know, I've never been good at the whole speaking thing, even when we met."

"I know. And when I married you, we both agreed to overlook all the flaws, and deal with them when we got there."

"We should." He closed the distance between us, his hand stroking my cheek. "What would I do without you?"

"You'd be a very lonely man."

"So, how about I show you just what you mean to me?" Looking into his eyes, a flame had sparked in his eyes.

I got over the initial shock. It had been so long since we had a moment to ourselves. "Right now?"

"If you're up for it."

"Mm . . . I'm thinking that I should get sick more often." I put one hand on his chest as he leaned in and kissed me with a hot fiery passion. "I've missed this." I offered breathlessly as we came up for air. He smiled and scooped me up in surprise and carried me upstairs with laughter echoing in our empty house.

Before we knew it, our bodies were tangled in sheets. Sweat gleamed over our skin as we lay close together. "We should do this more often. I forgot how good you were in bed." He offered, turning to look at me. "But you know we're going to have to talk about what's eating you. How come you took the pills?"

Sitting up, I held the sheet against my body. "I was lonely, Kevin. You spend so much time at the office that I'm left in this empty house, by myself. This time I wasn't taking them because I was overwhelmed, but because I don't feel like anyone needs me anymore. When Patrick went off to college, it wasn't so bad because we still had Sophie."

"And when Sophie left, you had no one."

Sinking back into the pillow, I sighed. "We hardly have the time to visit, let alone that we go visit them. You deploy so often that I don't know if I'm going to be able to come home to you either."

We sat in silence and I sunk back into the pillow. He sat up and kissed me again—deeper this time. We were panting, when he sat back against the bed, and I leaned against him. I traced a scar on his arm that had been received by falling out of a tree as a child, not because of his career.

"I'm sorry, Key." Kissing my head, he drew me close, so my head was resting against his chest.

"Hmm?"

"You know what your mom told me right before we married?" I shook my head. "That if I ever hurt you, she would come back to haunt me." Tears sprung to my eyes. My mom who had died from complications of Alzheimer's disease, a couple years after I had gone to rehab—was usually laid back. I'm sure my father would have agreed with her reasoning, especially since I was their only child.

"I would have expected that from my father, not my mom."

"Later that night, she cut into our dance—"

"I remember that. I think that's the first time I really saw you laugh."

"Your mother was something special." He grabbed my hand and played with the wedding ring. "But you were something beautiful. Still are."

I couldn't help but grin, and sighed into him as I blinked back the sleep in my eyes. "She had a good sense of humor. I don't think I ever got much of that. What I got from her was a sense of organization."

"I can believe that. Not to mention that she gave me one very hot wife—who is making me a very hungry man."

"That reminds me . . . I was supposed to go to the store, before I got food poisoning."

He sighed into me, kissing my fingers tenderly. "I'll go later."

"And forfeit time with your loving wife?"

He turned and kissed me long and hard, as I sunk back into the pillow. "I think she'll forgive me. Besides, I would hate for her to starve."

I grinned pleasantly. "Then please, show me how not to starve."

After another round, we both showered and got cleaned up. He waited until I was done, and then left to shop. I probably wasn't asleep more than ten or fifteen minutes, when I got a second wind. With my book open, I had just turned a page when there was a knock on my door. When I opened it, I was slightly surprised when I found Roxy LeBlanc with a container in hand, and dressed in a red dress shirt and jeans.

"Roxy—"

"Hey, Jackie. I hope that I didn't wake you."

"No, I was actually just reading." I opened the door wider. "Please, come in."

"Thanks." Her heels clicked on the floor. "I heard that you were in the hospital, so I thought you could use some soup."

"I was. Thank you. But you really didn't have to bring anything."

"It was nothing. It's just plain ol' chicken soup. You can put it in the fridge and eat it when you feel like it." Looking around, Roxy marveled at everything. "I didn't realize how beautiful this house was, until now."

"Thanks. If it weren't for Denise and Claudia Joy, we would have found ourselves homeless."

"Yeah, Trevor and I just found a new home ourselves."

"I heard about that. How are you settling in?" Taking the container, we walked into the kitchen and I placed it on the middle shelf.

"Besides all the boxes that are scattered around my house? Between work, children and FRG, I really haven't had much time to unpack anything."

"Have you considered asking for help?" She looked at me in surprise as I gestured her to sit. "It's just something that I've learned in the last couple days."

Roxy gave a small smile. "Well, Trevor has been helping a lot more—so have Finn and TJ. However, there are only so many things they can do before they start breaking things—the boys, not Trevor."

"I meant your friends."

"Right." We both laughed. "Usually I get so into something that I usually forget to ask for help. Does it get any easier? The whole moving around thing?"

"Packing does. But actually moving, doesn't. I would pretty much pack by myself, and then hire someone to load everything up into the moving truck."

"Wow." Roxy sat back in her chair. "Hardly surprising. You're like superwoman."

"I've started to believe that's not as true as it sounds."

"I don't know about that. I go crazy sometimes with two young kids. I think you've done more than I ever will."

"Believe when I say that I had my moments. My dad was in the army, so I had some experience moving around, before I met Kevin. Of course when I had Patrick and Sophie there were moments when I would have liked to drop to the ground and not get up. Makes me wish that I had been here at Fort Marshall a little sooner."

Nodding in agreement, Roxy leaned her head against the palm of her hand. "Why here?"

"The friendship that you all have with each other, you have a bond that I never had. Wherever I went, I felt like we were strictly business friends. Speaking of business, I would still like to help on Friday."

"You do. Aren't you supposed to be relaxing?"

"For at least a day or two. I figure that I'm on the mend—so I can help with whatever you need. I've already looked over the notes, so I'm up to speed with what we're going to discuss."

"I'm glad, because I'm going to need all the help that I can get." We both stood and walked to the door. "I should get going. I'm supposed to pick up a few hours of work, before picking up the boys at school."

"Let me know if there's anything I can do."

"I will let you know. In the meantime, take it easy."

"I will." With that promise, I gave a wave and closed the door. As I was sitting down, a pink album poked out from the bookshelf. It gave my stomach butterflies, but I picked it up anyway.

I began looking through the album, and smiled. This particular album was one that Sophie had given me for Christmas. She had come in early one morning when we were living at Fort Hope, with this in her hand.

"_I almost forgot to give this to you." Her blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she was wearing a long sleeved, white shirt with her school's logo on it._

_We looked at every photo—laughed and reminisced for hours. Finally, we got to the last page. "Is this your ultrasound picture?" The black and white picture had been cut around, so none of the hospital information was shown. _

"_This isn't an easy thing to tell you mom. But I was pregnant."_

"_Was? Sophie Jacqueline Clark—why didn't you say anything?" _

"_It was an accident mom. I met this wonderful guy, and then we ended splitting up—and when I was trying to figure out what to do, I ended up losing the baby." _

"_When did this happen?" _

"_Just after I got into college."_

"_Sophie." _

"_I didn't know what else to do." My twenty year old daughter had tears running down her face. I wrapped my arm around her and let her cry it out. "Are you mad?" _

"_I'm a little surprised. Does your father know about this?" _

"_No." Wiping her eyes with her sleeve, she sniffled. "Dad would have killed me if he knew. You know that right? It would have ruined his career to know that his daughter got pregnant." _

"Key?" The garage door closed and brought me from my thoughts. He was closer than I thought he was, and I heard his heavy footsteps trail into where I was sitting.

"What are you looking at?"

"An old album that Sophie gave me."

Before I could protest, he took the album from me and started flipping through it. "How come I've never seen this before?"


	12. Cry

_*{Now that the raining is falling, I should have seen it coming.} _

I knew from my drug problem, that Kevin was extremely angry when I took the pills. In the space of two days, I had revealed that I had a drug problem again, and that our fact that our daughter had been pregnant.

"Key?"

"Sophie gave it to me last year. I didn't realize that I still had it, until we had moved to Fort Marshall."

Looking through all the pages, he finally turned to the last page. I watched the expression on his face, secretly wondering if he would comment on her ultrasound and the picture of the plus sign on the pregnancy test.

"If this is Sophie's album, then why is there a pregnancy test and ultrasound?" I sat there, watching the wheels turn in his mind: putting it all together. "Are you saying that our daughter is pregnant?"

"Was. She was pregnant."

His jaw turned rigid, that he could hardly get everything out. "What do you mean that she was? Did she have the baby? Give it up for adoption? Tell me what she did, because I would like to know."

"She lost the baby, Kevin. Our daughter miscarried the baby that she was carrying. She couldn't she tell us that she was pregnant in the first place."

For a moment, he looked stunned, but the anger returned. He stood from his place beside me, pacing back and forth. "There was no 'us', Jackie. It was just you."

"What's that supposed to mean? She's our daughter!"

"How long have you known?"

"Since last Christmas. But I didn't know that she was pregnant until she brought me that album."

"And you didn't think that it was a good idea to tell me about this?"

"And what would you have done if you knew, Kevin?" I spat back, standing from my place. "You should have seen the look on her face, when she knew that you'd be disappointed in her. She had big crocodile tears in her eyes that I haven't seen since she was five. Our daughter knew that it would have destroyed your career if you found out. It's better that she told someone, than no one at all."

"Do you think I wouldn't listen?"

"Are you hearing yourself right now? Sophie is your daughter too. Your only daughter, who didn't want to disappoint you. Who lost the lost the baby inside of her. We might not know what that feels like—but she does."

"You know we need to talk about her about this."

"I know." I breathed out, suddenly drained. "But I can't talk about this anymore right now."

"Fine."

"You're on your own for dinner. I think I'm going to have to lie down." I felt lightheaded, but luckily I was able to keep myself upright as I walked over and made my way up the stairs.

I learned awhile ago, to let Kevin have his space. Besides, this was more than your normal argument, and it was possible that it would take awhile before everything blew over this time.

Hearing the slamming of cabinets and clanking of pans, I drew my arms up to my chest, listening to the sounds of the house and tried to ward off the dizziness that had crept in.

When that didn't work, I closed my eyes and was just starting to fall asleep when he came into the room. He slipped off his belt, hitting it against side of the dresser. It was hard to tell if he had done it purposely—or if it had hit against it because he was standing too close to the dresser when he took it off.

I gritted my teeth in irritation as I looked over my shoulder. I watched him change into some shorts and an old army t-shirt, then turn out the light without so much as a glance in my direction.

He sighed and relaxed into his pillow, only to turn again a few minutes later. And that's how it stayed for the most part. But even after a half an hour later, I could tell that he wasn't the only one that hadn't been granted with sleep.

Suddenly, I felt very awake. My eyes had adjusted to the darkness as I looked at the clock; the green numbers informing that it was now after midnight. The more that my thoughts took over, the more that I had a sudden urge for some wine—with a dash of pills on the side.

It was possible relief, when I finally heard his breathing even out, around one. I escaped downstairs as quietly as I could. I didn't dare turn on any lights until I got to the kitchen.

I heated up some soup on the stove and sucked at it quietly. I thought about how my daughter was so much like me: following in my footsteps and hiding deep secrets.

It made me feel guilty; left me feeling like a horrible mother, who suddenly didn't want her children following her example. Who continually put her husband through hell—physically withdrew from her, like she did to him.

Leaving the bowl in the sink with a clank, I almost gasped at how loud the sound was to my ears. Yet, it sparked anger; an impulse that had me throwing open the cabinets and pulling out the pots and pans.

My sudden calm demeanor didn't care that my ears were ringing—or that I was waking up the sleepy world in the middle of the night. Tears were now running down my cheeks, as I grasped at each handle with desperate pleasure as they hit the floor with a continually clank.

I continued, until I heard him shouting through all the chaos. "Key—stop." He pulled me back, and I let out a deep sob as my back touched the counter. My legs almost gave out as he caught me from sliding to the floor.

As angry as I knew he was at me—he held me close and allowed me to cry, until I was staring across the kitchen in silence.

I felt exhausted; my eyes stung, the muscles in my jaw were tense, and my throat burned from all the crying. I was spent—yet felt wrecked and wild. His touch was soothing, but at the same time it felt irritating and I didn't feel like I deserved his love. That if I told him the truth with how I was really feeling, he would send me away again.

"I'm not letting you go, until you tell me you're okay." He pressed his fingers underneath my chin, but I looked away. I couldn't look into his eyes, because I could already see all the unanswered questions that needed answers.

Swallowing, I let my cheek rest against his body. I was too tired to answer what he wanted to know. I knew that he was accustomed to staying up all night, but I just wanted to fall asleep right there, so I slowly pressed my hand against his chest and stood upright. "I'm okay."

He looked at me intensely as one hand wrapped around me, while his thumb brushed away the tears from my cheek. His expression told the story that he didn't really believe my words, but he let go.

I wondered what we should do now. Would he walk away? Would I? Would we start arguing again? Would he call me out on not speaking the truth? That those were only the words that he wanted to hear?

Taking a step back, my legs felt like jello and I felt sick to my stomach. I didn't have to ask as my eyes flickered up to his. "Let's get you to bed." He helped me up the stairs and into bed. He covered me up, and I was out as soon as I closed my eyes.

And when I opened them again, I was slightly disoriented. I knew that it was early, and that I was tired and worn. The whole night felt like it had been some bad nightmare—especially when I opened my eyes and found that Kevin wasn't there.

His side of the bed had gone long cold; the bathroom door ajar and empty. I got up slowly and threw on my robe and walked downstairs. The kitchen was empty and clean. The pots and pans that I had thrown out of the cabinets were placed neatly back into place. The dishes in the sink were gone, and I turned to see a scribbled note from Kevin.

Jackie,

I went to work for awhile, but I'll try to be home early tonight. Be dressed and showered by eleven—you're getting out of the house today.

-Kevin

* * *

*Hurricane- Honor Society


	13. Toast

_{There's so many wars we fought—there's so many things we're not. But with what we have, I promise you that we're marchin' on.}_

As I dried off my hair with the towel, I passed by my purse and saw that my phone was blinking. Usually I was able to hear my phone, but with everything that was going on lately, I could have tuned it out.

_Hey, Jackie—it's Denise. Call me when you get this." _Short and sweet to the point, definitely had me wondering if everything was okay. At first I thought that she was just checking up on me, but then my mind start to wander—possibilities formed in all shapes and sizes.

I redialed Denise's number, the other line ringing. Within seconds, I was willing for Denise to pick up the phone—to which she did after the third ring.

"Hey, Jackie." Denise breathed out a sigh of relief.

"Is everything alright? You sounded worried in your message."

"I was going to ask you the same question." The sound of water was running on her end, which suggested that she was probably washing dishes. "I got an interesting call from Kevin this morning, Jackie."

Suddenly, I felt like a little girl with her hand stuck in the cookie jar. "This goes back to what I said—about all the things Kevin and I haven't told each other."

Denise gave an empathetic sigh. "Hang in there. And if there's anything I can do—"

"I will let you know." Finishing her sentence, I poked through my closet for something to wear and fingered a little black dress, and wondered if I would be wearing it soon. "How's the packing going?"

"Practically nonexistent, is more like it. However—I've actually been trying to finish some things around the house, so Frank won't have too much to do it when it comes to recovery time." I heard Molly more clearly in the background as Denise moved around. "How are you feeling?"

"Better than the last couple of days." Throwing my eyes up to the ceiling in a thankful manner, I grabbed a white sleeveless shirt and a blue sweater from the closet.

"Good. I'm glad that you're feeling better. If you're up for it—Claudia Joy and I would like to take you out for lunch."

"Lunch? If anything I should be taking you both out." I offered, closing the bathroom door behind me. Then a thought occurred. "Denise . . . did Kevin put you up to this?"

"He might've suggested we get you out of the house. And when I talked to Claudia Joy this morning—she thought it would be nice if we to go out to lunch."

"What about Roxy and Roland?"

"Claudia Joy should be calling them right now to see if they can come or not, but it might just end up being the three of us."

"Did Roxy tell you that she hasn't unpacked yet?"

"Yeah, I figured as much." Denise sighed into the phone. "When Trevor threw that barbeque, I think she ended up putting most of the boxes out of sight, and hasn't quite had enough time to unpack everything just yet."

"That's basically what she told me. We all know that it's not easy balancing a career, a family and moving often."

"True." A subtle pause between us as Molly babbled some words. "So back to lunch—"

"Where should I meet you?"

"I'm actually picking Claudia Joy up, so why don't I just stop by and pick you up as well." Denise sounded pleased and rather hopeful. It also made sense that she was picking us both up, since we lived just next door to each other. In fact, I would have offered to drive if she wasn't already picking her up.

"What time?"

"Eleven." Looking at the clock on the wall, it was already almost ten o'clock. My thoughts went back to Kevin's note, and it was already starting to make sense. Part of me was hopeful that he had something planned—it was slightly disappointing. "You still there?"

"Eleven is fine." I cleared my throat, while hanging my clothes on the towel rack. I didn't want to allude to the fact that I was having second thoughts about going. It was hard to not go back to bad habits—or to allow myself even one glass. And then I had to shake the thought being drunk while eating lunch with everyone.

"I'll see you in about an hour then."

"See you then." With that I hung up my phone and leaned against the wall. With a deep sigh, I closed my eyes and found the courage to finish getting ready. In a matter of a half an hour, I had put on some makeup, straightened and curled my hair, and gotten dressed.

To keep myself occupied, I grabbed some laundry that I had been meaning to do—throwing it into the washing machine and starting it up. I walked back up to the living room and saw the album sitting there. I ran my fingers over the cover and put it back on the shelf, before lightly skimming over the FRG notes again.

It was when I looked at my watch for about the fifth time that I finally heard a horn honk in the driveway. I stopped and took in a deep breath before rounding the corner. Both Denise and Claudia gave me a smile as I opened the back door.

"Jackie." Claudia Joy announced as I slipped into the back; her hand outstretched to me. "I'm so glad that you could come." I put my hand on hers. "As if you haven't seen us enough in the last couple of days."

"Nonsense." I used Claudia's word proudly, almost sarcastically. A smile crept up on my lips, and made us all burst into laughter. I was really starting to like this friendship thing. It almost made me forget about everything bad that had happened in almost the last three days. "I hope we didn't wake you up last night."

"You didn't wake either Michael or me last night. Why? What's going on between you and Kevin?"

Intertwining my fingers, I took in a deep breath. Suddenly, I felt like a kid who had been caught with her hand stuck in the cookie jar. I could see Denise throwing glances from the rearview mirror, but she was mostly focused on driving.

"Jackie?"

"You know Kevin and I haven't been getting along very well—especially in the last couple days." Both nodded in agreement. "Well, we got into another argument while we were at the hospital and when we got home."

"What exactly are we talking about here?"

Our eyes met in the rearview mirror, and I knew that I would have to tell them sooner or later. I didn't know whether to be relieved or happy that we only made small talk until we had arrived at the restaurant: a quaint place with white brick and a red roof.

We were led to a corner table and the waitress took our order, while we looked over the menu. I tried to find something that sounded good—although not much did. But after another few minutes, I finally decided on the potato and sausage soup; Claudia Joy got a salad, and Denise got a sandwich.

Claudia Joy and Denise smiled sweetly, as Denise remarked. "This is one of my favorite places—yet we don't get here very often. I can't imagine what we would do if we actually moved away from this place."

Grabbing her glass, Claudia Joy held up her glass in a toast. "Well, here's to hoping we have many more days here."

"Then here's to good friends that we wish were all here."

"And memories." Claudia Joy chimed in, putting her own glass in.

"I'll toast to that." I agreed as our glasses clinked against the other.


	14. Jackie

Having just reached seven o'clock, I finally heard the garage door close, and Kevin calling out my name. "Jackie?" I was now sitting up against the bed, with my book in hand.

Seven was earlier than some days that he came home, but somehow I wished it had been earlier. And since I was practically starving and didn't think he would come home any earlier, I indulged in some of Roxy's soup around five-thirty.

With that thought, I went back to reading until he was leaning against the doorframe, with some of my favorite flowers in hand.

I realized that they were the same flowers that had been used at our wedding; symbolized for admiration, deep love and a woman's affection. These flowers just happened to be carnations, and had always been my favorite.

Kevin would bring one with him on almost every date, after we revealed what some of our favorite things were. Then they showed up during our wedding, when Patrick and Sophie were born. And then as quickly as it had come, it all stopped.

While I ravished in becoming a mother to two beautiful children, I never realized how hard it would be to raise a family almost solo—even though I had watched my mother struggle through it many years ago.

Like my father, Kevin also took a flying leap into his career. We constantly took a backseat, and nothing else seemed to matter. When my parents came to visit me at boarding school— it wasn't often. Mostly my mom came alone, and I would visit on holidays.

"Key?"

"I haven't gotten flowers from you in years. I'm surprised more than anything that you remember what I love."

"Of course I remember what you love."

"Then why did you stop? I think the last time I ever got flowers from you, was when Sophie was born."

Handing me the flowers, I buried my nose into them. I had almost forgotten what carnations smelled like. While every time I did, it had me traveling back to the happier times in my life.

"I think we both know that life got busy. At the time we had an almost four year old and a newborn—"

Raising my eyebrow sharply, I wondered just how much more his ego could inflate. His back was now turned towards me, so I couldn't see the expression on his face as he leaned over to untie his shoes.

I knew what he wanted to say was on the tip of his tongue. The words '_and my career' _made my expression turn sour. But what I hated to say the most: was that every day was about his career and him.

Putting the flowers to the side, I was afraid that I would crush them if I held them in my hand much longer.

"You'll never believe who called my office today." I went back to reading, and waited until he had turned around to see if I was paying attention. "Sophie."

"You talked to Sophie?"

"I wasn't going to tell you this. Before you got sick, I invited Sophie to come spend the weekend as a surprise to you for our anniversary. I was going to have her surprise you when she came in on Friday."

"Friday." I repeated, slightly surprised. "That's less than a day from now." It wasn't like I didn't want our daughter to visit, but it made me slightly nervous to be alone with her. It seemed like no matter how much I tried—she wanted nothing to do with me.

Kevin called over his shoulder as changed out of uniform. "I've been granted a couple days off, so I was trying to get as much as I could done as I could at the office. Sophie called just as I was packing up to leave."

I gave a sigh of relief, although it had been awhile since we had all functioned as a family. "What exactly did she say?"

"She was confirming her flight, and when she would be getting in." He disappeared into the bathroom to splash his face with cool water, and came back out with a towel in hand. "I'll be picking her up around nine from the airport.

"I have the FRG meeting around nine, but we can meet for an early lunch around eleven?"

"I don't see why not. I already have reservations for the best restaurant in town." He said proudly moving his shoes and uniform into the closet.

"Perfect. Now, I would like to know what you've done with my husband."

The hanger made a scraping noise as he hung his uniform up. It took him a minute to think about it. "He took the weekend off to be with his wife."

I sat on the edge of the edge of the bed as I grabbed the flowers—a smile on my face. "I think I'm going to put these flowers in some water."

"Does this mean I'm off the hook?" He inquired, catching my arm and pulling me in.

"Not if you ruin the flowers." I teased, as we both gazed down at the flowers that had been caught between our bodies, and kept us from being close. Sadly, it felt ironic to the relationship between us as husband and wife. My smile seemed to falter at the thought of us pushing each other away for too long.

"That's better." His hands protectively went down to the small of my back and covered my hips. "You okay?" His voice sounded so far away. "Key? You're not going to pass out of me again—"

It took a few more seconds before I was able to snap out of my thoughts. "No. Just a little tired, that's all." We went a few moments in silence as slowly intertwined my fingers with his. "When you talked to Denise this morning, what exactly did you say?"

We began to sway back and forth. "I may have suggested that you needed to get out of the house. I also forgot how observant Denise Sherwood is, because pretty soon she was talking about taking you and General Holden's wife to lunch."

"Claudia Joy."

"Claudia Joy" He repeated, turning us around slowly in a circle. "What did you think I meant, when I wrote that note?"

The room suddenly felt quite uncomfortable as I rubbed at my brow. "I was hoping that we could actually spend some time together. When was the last time that we went on vacation with just the two of us? Hmm? As a family?

"You know that it's not that easy—"

"Of course I know that! Sometimes, I'd like for us to act like a normal family: where we actually go on vacations—even if it's only for a couple of days." I shrugged, already knowing that my wishes would probably never happen.

"And I know that I don't have to tell you twice—my job doesn't really allow us the option of getting away." He sighed deeply. "I assume that you've already eaten?" I nodded. "I'm going to shower, then grab something to eat. I'm sure that we'll have plenty of time this weekend to talk."

I turned my head as he ended up kissing me on the cheek. Something in the tone of his voice, told me that his promise was not legit and would not happen. As soon as he had closed the door, I changed into my pajamas and slipped into bed.

It was relatively early to even think about sleep, and pulled out my book. The water turned on and became the background music to my thoughts. My eyes glanced at the flowers that were still sitting on top of the dresser, and I put the book down.

The thought knotted in my mind and slipped through, as I began to wonder if he meant what he had said at the banquet: about never being able to get this far in his career without me. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I was still going through life alone.


	15. Bruises

When I woke up the next morning, it was still dark out. Something told me that it was way too early to be up, but last was still fresh in my mind. I grabbed my running pants and a shirt before slipping into the bathroom to change.

It was a relief that Kevin was still asleep when I came out a few minutes later to put my shoes on and slip out of the room.

As I went quietly out the front door, I walked past Claudia Joy's house and down the sidewalk. My feet began picking up the pace as my thoughts swirled. By the time that I had taken a break from running, all my bruises from the week had surfaced.

The first thing that came to mind was that Sophie had always been a daddy's girl—which seemed to make it hurt all that much more. She was around his finger, no matter what she did. He always seemed to get her to come visit, but he never saw the way she really acted.

There were the promises that Kevin always gave his word on, but there wasn't actually enough trust for it to actually happen.

And my deepest secret: which weighed heavily on my mind. I knew that my drug problem hadn't just slipped away from my thoughts. I wanted nothing more than to take a sip of alcohol and a pill to wash all my latest worries away.

Despite having friends who cared, I wanted Kevin to be my more of my support system. Without him, I would continue to go into a less supported environment, and my recovery would be nothing more than a waste of time.

As I walked around the corner of the neighborhood, there was one possibility that began forming in my mind; one that I began to think about with such force and emotion that I bent over just to compose myself.

It was abundantly clear that my marriage and family had been broken apart. We continued to act like nothing was wrong, and nothing would change as long as we chose to look the other way. I couldn't hide the fact that it was getting harder and harder to wear a façade of masks. But even when I was making a mess of myself, something surprised me when I stepped back and gave up the reins.

Kevin recognized all I did when I didn't show up at the banquet, and it happened to be the first breakthrough we had in awhile. Even though it didn't seem like it at first, it was a welcome distraction up until this moment.

Now that Sophie was coming to visit, I felt like I should be happy. Instead I felt very wary about her arrival, because I knew deep down that my daughter resented me.

The thought provoked me to run harder, until I had reached home again. I slipped through the patio door and went upstairs. I half expected Kevin to be asleep since he had time off— when I reached the hallway, I could see the light filtering through the half open door.

As soon as I had entered, he closed the book that he was reading. "I thought you'd be sleeping. Did I wake you when I left?"

"Sleeping seems to be a rare factor around this house, or we both wouldn't be up." Taking off the glasses that he used to read, he set both on the nightstand. "You're still angry about last night."

As I turned to the closet to pick an outfit for the day, I looked at the clock and realized that I had been out for almost an hour. It had taken me longer than it usually did when I ran consistently every day.

"You know since we've moved here, I've actually made friends that care about something other than expensive handbags." My hands swung forward in irrational movements at that point. I was feeling the frustration building up again, because even though I had realized what had to change, I wasn't sure that Kevin would.

"I didn't realize you were that unhappy."

"I've spent my life only knowing and living in the army that I almost forgot that anything else existed." It wasn't hard to miss the darkened, almost confused glint in his eyes. "All I'm saying is: keep an open mind. You may be running against Michael Holden, but that doesn't give you the right to act like you don't want to be associated with them."

"It wouldn't matter if I want to associate with them or not—Michael and I work in the same place on base."

"On base. There's nothing there that says associating outside of the office."

"Fine, you've made your point." Snatching his book up, he placed his glasses back on with one swift movement. As he went back to reading, I waved my hand in frustration and closed the door to the bathroom.

My thoughts seemed to complete as I locked the door behind me; they seemed more desirable, and even more so as I slipped into the warm water. Despite how much I ached for a vacation, I knew that it would never happen if I waited for Kevin to take us on one.

It tore at my heart to even think about taking one without him, but I was getting tired of waiting. Inside, I felt like I wanted to burst, and despite having my own friends—they all had their own problems at the moment.

Now that I had offered to help with the FRG meetings, I knew that my vacation wouldn't be for at least another couple weeks. It would give me enough time to research a good place; hopefully I could make it there before my desire to drink and take pills again, came around full circle.

My hand turned the knob to the hottest setting that I could stand, before I washed my hair and body before turning off the water and drying off. I didn't bother putting on my makeup or doing my hair, as it was only five minutes past six.

I already felt drained and wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep, but I knew that I was too wound up to fall asleep any time soon. I had a couple hours to spare, so I went downstairs to eat a bowl of cereal.

At least a couple times, my hand went to my watch. I knew that both Claudia Joy and Denise were headed into surgery in just a few minutes. Kevin was gone by the time that I had come out of the bathroom. I assumed that he had gone for a run, since his shoes were no longer at the foot of the bed.

After I put my bowl and spoon into the dishwasher, I went back upstairs and lay back down on the bed. I closed my eyes for a few seconds then pushed myself back up to get dressed. It was now almost a quarter to seven and I wasn't going to allow myself the liberty of falling asleep and missing the FRG meeting.

By the time that I had buttoned my shirt up, I heard the back door close forcefully and knew that Kevin was home. A few minutes later, he came into the bedroom with sweat dripping down his shirt.

I was sitting on the edge of the bed when he hardly gave me any notice as he went into the bathroom to splash his face with water.

"We'll stop off at the house later today. I'm sure Sophie will want to change before we go to lunch this afternoon." I was picking out some shoes from the closet, when he leaned against the frame of the door. "I picked a restaurant that I thought we could all enjoy." His tone seemed impatient.

"I might be a little late if the FRG meeting runs late, and if I go and visit Claudia Joy and Denise in the hospital. I'll meet you there."

"Fine. You finished in here?"

"Yeah." Grabbing my other shoe, I turned around to say something, but the bathroom door had already closed.


	16. Favor

It was already ten minutes past eleven, by the time that I got a chance to look at my watch again. The meeting had gone over a few minutes, even though we had started on time. I knew that if I left now, then I could still make it to the restaurant on time.

As everyone dispersed from the meeting however, I started to help clean up. The chairs were almost stacked by the time Roxy could finally stop my helping efforts.

"Oh no, you don't." She put one hand on the stacked chairs. "Didn't you say that you were going to have lunch with your husband and daughter? What are you still doing here?"

"I guess it's in my nature to see everything until the end."

"Yeah? Well it's in my nature to get you to your lunch date, on time." She gestured towards the door we had all come in from. "Gloria and I will finish up here."

Grabbing my purse from underneath the table, I headed towards the parking lot. As my phone rang, my first thought was that it was Kevin calling to see where I was, but the number didn't look familiar. "Jackie Clark."

"Hey, Jackie—it's Denise. Did I catch you at a bad time?"

"Denise." Walking to my car, I opened the door and got in. "You just had surgery—you should be resting."

"I know I should, but I guess I forgot how hard it to sleep here when you're the patient." There was some hesitance in her laugh, and I shook off how eerie it made me feel. "No, I'm calling because I found out some news about Claudia Joy—"

"How is she?"

She hesitated again. "When Frank came to visit, he wouldn't give me a straight answer at first. I had to practically pry the information out of him."

"What information are we talking about here?"

"After Claudia Joy was put under anesthesia, she had a reaction and they had to restart her heart." I cursed underneath my breath and I turned off the engine just as Roxy and Gloria came out of the building. They both had a box in hand; grinning and chatting as they headed towards Roxy's car. "She's in a coma, Jackie."

So focused on what Denise had just told me, I didn't realize Roxy was tapping on the passenger door window—with that expression that inquired to why I was still sitting here in the parking lot. I unlocked the car door and she opened it with her free hand. "What are you still doing here?"

"Is that Roxy?" Denise inquired, groaning as if she had just sat up in bed.

Wiping the shock off my face, I felt like I could hardly focus."Roxy and Gloria were just carrying some things to the car. I was about to head to lunch with Kevin and Sophie."

"I didn't know that Sophie was visiting. You'll have to tell her hi for me."

"I will."

"If it's too much to ask, can you tell everyone the news about Claudia Joy?"

"I would be happy to tell them." Although I wasn't so sure about the happy part—I knew that Denise was also in no condition to tell everyone.

"Thanks, Jackie. I'll talk to you soon then?"

"We'll get together as soon as you start feeling better." I bargained, turning towards Roxy and Gloria, who was now standing beside her.

"Then I think I will try and get some sleep. I think the medicine they gave me is finally starting to kick in."

"Just promise me that you'll take it easy."

"I promise I will take it easy until I recover."

"Bye, Jackie."

"Bye."

Roxy cleared her throat. "You going to tell me who you were talking to—or are you just going to keep staring at your phone?"

I smiled apologetically. "Sorry. That was Denise."

"Denise called you?" Gloria chimed in; excitement and relief in the tone of her voice. "How's she doing?"

"Yeah, I mean if she called you . . . she must have made it through surgery okay, right?" Roxy added, not quite as convinced as Gloria was.

"She actually didn't say too much about the surgery—other than it was a little hard to sleep at the hospital."

Roxy had that far away look in her eyes, as if recalling a distant memory. "I know it's only been about three hours since the surgery, but has she heard any news about Claudia Joy?"

"She made it through surgery—"Both Roxy and Gloria gave a relieved sigh at the news. I, on the other hand, felt my stomach knot up.

"I'm sensing there's a 'but' in there somewhere." Roxy cut in, noticing my lack of shared excitement.

Nodding in agreement, I took a moment to compose myself. "Claudia Joy made it through the surgery, but had a bad reaction to the anesthesia. When Denise asked Frank about her, that's when he told her that they had to restart her heart and that she was in a coma."

Gloria looked worried. "So what does that mean for Claudia Joy? Do the doctors know if she's ever going to wake up?"

"Poor Michael. I can't even imagine what he's going through right now."

I didn't have any answers for either of them. When someone in the group—or their spouses—got injured, or had some medical emergency, we often turned to Denise for answers (for good reason, as she always had that calming nature about her).

"Right now, I think we should stay positive. Although I haven't known Claudia Joy for very long, I know that she has a very strong-will and a fighting spirit."

Roxy put a comforting hand on Gloria's shoulder. "We have to hope for the best in these situations. We all knew—including Claudia Joy—that there would be some risks when she went into surgery."

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

"Why don't you go finish loading those boxes in the car?" Roxy gestured to a bundle of boxes that had appeared there while we had been talking. "I'll be there in a few minutes." Backing away, Gloria went back over to the car and began loading things into the car. "You should probably get going. Let us know if you find out anything else?"

"I will."

She gave a small smile of appreciation, and pulled her phone out of her pocket. "In the meantime, I'll call Roland and Pamela and fill them in." I nodded as she closed the passenger door. I watched as Roxy balanced the phone on her shoulder as she said something to Gloria and stepped to the curb.

As I waited for a car to pass by down the road, I quickly glanced at the clock and realized that I would be almost a half hour late for lunch. The way things had been going with Kevin lately, I dismissed the thought of calling and letting him know that I was on my way, since he hadn't already called. I just figured that this way, it would give them a little more time to catch up.

But the closer I got to the restaurant, the more my thoughts scattered like broken glass. I figured that in that time, Sophie could have fed Kevin anything but the truth, about what she had really been up to while away at college. Although she didn't know it yet, I knew that he wanted to talk about at least one thing that had happened while there. I just hoped that he could wait long enough for us to discuss the matter—or that we could get through lunch in one piece; saving the greater matter, until we were in the privacy of our own home.


	17. Flight-Pt I

As I drove into the parking lot, I spotted Kevin and Sophie sitting at a table nearest the end of the outdoor deck. Sophie had a seat nearest the railing and had her back to me, while Kevin was leaning back in his chair.

My heels clicked against the asphalt, until I was inside of the restaurant. The waitress that was cleaning a nearby table was happy to lead me to where I needed to go. Sophie spotted me first and I soon found myself hugging her. "How was your trip?"

"It was good." Although, something in the tone of her voice was reminding me that she had better things to do, other than spending the weekend alone with her parents. "Dad was telling me that you ran into Denise Sherwood when you moved here."

I nodded, sitting down at the table. "Her husband Frank was transferred to Fort Marshall about five years ago." Outstretching my hand, I hesitated and laid it on the table. So far so good, but I knew just as much that it was all just surface talk. "How's school going?"

"Good. I was just telling dad that I have all A's, except for in one of the classes that I'm taking this semester."

"Sophie, that's great—"

"I've been studying really hard this year. Well even harder than last year."

From the corner of my eye, Kevin flagged down the waitress—a thirty something waitress in a black apron and white t-shirt and black slacks underneath; black hair that was folded neatly into a bun, and green eyes that were friendly and warm.

"Are we ready to order?" She inquired; pen and pad in hand. Kevin's gaze crossed from mine to Sophie's as we all agreed and read off what we wanted from the menu. She left and we were back to the silence.

I could tell that the silence was making her feel uncomfortable—I felt it too as the frustration rose. Kevin and I were angry at each other for various reasons, but that didn't mean that we couldn't be civil in front of our daughter.

Touching my hand to hers, I thought that she would pull it away. "I'm glad you're here." I felt her gaze soften, become more relaxed. When our food came, I ate more than I thought I would.

Halfway through lunch, Kevin finally decided to join in the conversation, even though it was more small talk. We managed to catch up before we boxed up all of our leftovers and got up from the table. We all walked out to the parking lot together.

"See you at home?"

He stopped walking and turned around. "I was hoping Sophie could ride with you." Without even asking, Sophie walked towards my car and left us alone. I didn't blame her for not wanting to be part of the argument. My eyes seemed to ask why he couldn't, even though I probably already knew the answer. "As I was on my way to pick Sophie up from the airport, stating an emergency meeting at the Pentagon. I fly out tonight."

"For once, Kevin… I wish you would put your family before the army." I knew it was the wrong thing to say, but I was too angry to really care. My heels clicked angrily against the asphalt as I walked away.

As I got into the car, Sophie followed and closed the door. "Mom?" I opened my eyes, hardly realizing that I had closed them in the first place. I put the key into the ignition and we backed out of the parking lot.

When we got home, Sophie went up to her room and I went into the kitchen. I hesitated, took out a glass and poured myself some red wine. I drained it way too quickly, and was on my way to pouring myself another when I stopped halfway. I knew that I couldn't do this, and went to pour it down the kitchen sink.

I went back to the couch and intended to start another book, but I had picked up the album that Sophie had given me and started flipping through it. "I can't believe you still have that thing."

Slightly startled, I saw her sitting at the top of the stairs. I wasn't sure how long she had been sitting there, but she came down and sat down next to me on the couch. She took the album into hand and flipped through it. "I think about that moment a lot. What it would have been like to feel the baby move . . . what I could have done differently." Her face scrunched up. "How could I have been so stupid?"

"You are not a stupid person."

"But I am, mom. I got pregnant at nineteen." She shrugged her shoulders forward. "After seeing you and dad this afternoon, it made me realize that I would not have made a good mother—"

It felt like I had been punched in the stomach, just to hear her say that. Suddenly, I felt like the worst mother in the world. I couldn't seem to breathe as I picked myself off the couch and went outside for some air.

I thought about all the times that I had struggled just being a mother. Sometimes I felt like a single mother because my husband's job always seemed to be more important. It just backed the feeling that he would never know how it would feel, before I closed my eyes and dozed off.

When I awoke, the sky was dark. I grabbed my keys off the table and saw the note that Kevin had scribbled down. He had to head to the airport early and Sophie had gone out with a friend to get dinner. I was all alone for dinner once again, so I headed to the Hump bar.

Gloria was behind the counter as I walked in. I gave a small wave and sat down near the back. "Hey, Jackie. What brings you by?"

"I was hoping to talk to Roxy."

"She actually had an emergency, so I'm taking over for her tonight. Anything I can do—because you sure look like you could use a friend."

"Yeah."

"Want a drink?" Gloria offered.

The thought was tempting, but I declined. "I've actually already had one."

"Oh?"

I let out a bitter laugh. "It's not like before, but thanks for the offer."

"Sure."

"You said Roxy had an emergency?"

"Yeah. She came in earlier, but I sent her home because she was experiencing some bleeding. When they went in, her doctor decided that she wanted to keep her overnight for observation." She gestured towards me. "So what's going on? Roxy told me you were also in the hospital."

"For food poisoning, yes. Denise and Claudia Joy showed up at my door when I didn't show up to go over what was supposed to take place at this week's meeting."

"Well, I for one am glad that you're okay, and that you made it to the meeting. I don't think Roxy or I could have done it without you."

"I'm sure you would have done just fine."

"And you're doing okay, otherwise?"

"It's a long story."

"Really?" Gloria shrugged, looking around at the bar. "I don't see anyone around who needs my services at the moment. Let's hear it."

So I told her about Sophie and Kevin—lunch and the fight. I figured that would enough for tonight. I was still exhausted and something told me that I had taken on too much, too soon.


	18. Withdrawal-- Part II

I had written this chapter a little before Valentine's Day, but decided to revamp it all together. It's been quite a delay, and am so glad to be bringing this story back to life.

* * *

When I returned home, I settled down in my office and began trying to distract myself from looking at the clock every five minutes. At one point, I ended up slamming the binder a little too hard on the desk and stepped away to the bedroom to change into something a little more comfortable.

I felt a bit calmer when I returned about ten minutes later—although not by much. At first it had been way too easy to ignore that my family would never appreciate what had been offered to them. I could turn to pills when I was numb, or things were getting too hard; drinking too much, when I no longer wanted to hear that voice in the back of my head that kept telling me that I was absolutely wrong in what I was doing.

It was the opposite now and those thoughts were strong and pressing in my mind—especially now that I was alone. Suddenly the prescription drugs that I had been taking made me feel vulnerable. For one weak moment, I went rifling through my drawer—only to find it empty.

My first response was anger, because I knew who had taken it. After I had calmed a little, I knew that I didn't have the luxury of popping pills into my mouth, before it set in that I was sitting here alone, torn between what I should do. And that's when I felt my calmness slowly slipping away from me.

My body was now shaking and my knuckles turned white as I grasped the railing; my head was now spinning and the thought of Sophie or Kevin finding me down at the bottom of the stairs, caused a cold shudder to run through me.

By the time that I had gotten to the top, I was sobbing—resisting the urge to lie down right there in the hall. I wanted to get to my bed, but only managed to get to the frame of the door when my vision began closing in. Losing my balance, I succumbed to blackness.

"Mom…you need to get up. Please."

_Please? _That was definitely a word that I hadn't heard in a long time. And then it dawned on me that Sophie must have found me on the floor. With my eyes still closed, I let out a silent groan in my head. It was too much to hope that she wasn't thinking of the worst scenarios possible. One being: _my mom is a drunk. _

The thought prompted me to open my eyes. I wasn't quite up for talking, so I pushed myself so I was leaning against the side of the bed. Sophie followed but at a slower pace and then ended up sitting on the chest near the end of the bed.

"What's going on?" Leaning my head back against the soft fabric, I closed my eyes. "Dad told me that you've been sick?"

"I had food poisoning, so the doctor kept me overnight." As I rubbed my hand over my cheek, I realized that I was still shaking from earlier, and knew by the look on Sophie's face that she had noticed it too.

"I just found you on the floor. I think we could do with a little less suspense." Sophie reminded me, as she slowly pulled the blanket up to my shoulders. "What is going on? I mean I know you and dad have your differences, but not like this." Closing my eyes, I knew that she couldn't hate me more than she already did. "Fine . . . then I'm calling an ambulance."

"Your father is angry because I relapsed."

Sophie turned back to me sharply, walking back towards me. "I remember you promising that it would never happen again."

"I know."

"Why?" She shook her head, still in clear disbelief. "Are you trying to kill yourself?"

"No. Drugs are not some disease—it's an addiction and always will be an addiction." I enunciated those last few words, hoping that she realized the importance of what I was trying to tell her.

After pacing a couple times, she posed the question. "If you knew this was more than just an addiction, then why aren't you talking to someone?"

I felt a burning anger inside of me—almost embarrassment. She had been too young to understand when my addiction happened the first time around. Kevin and I had never talked to her or Patrick about it much—other than when it was questioned and only talked about it briefly. "It's not easy to come out and tell someone that you have an addiction."

"He didn't act like that when you told him the first time, did he?"

Sighing, I reminisced on the day that he sent me packing. His cover story was that I was going to visit relatives for a little while—kind of like some getaway trip. "He was shocked; agreed to send me to a rehab facility and while I was there, he did everything he could to keep things quiet."

"So, basically you lied to everyone."

"We kept it quiet—"

"I know." She rolled her eyes, having heard the phrase many times. "So it didn't ruin dad's career. It's all about dad's career every second of the day. Sometimes I think he'd rather serve his country rather than being home with his family." As I opened my mouth to protest, her next words stung. "And don't say you weren't thinking it, because you know it's true."

I felt myself go pale, almost to point of lightheadedness. For a split-second, I thought it was because she knew the truth, and I had been holding my breath in fear for too long. However, that was quickly replaced with dread, when I realized my withdrawal symptoms were getting progressively worse.

"We'll talk about this later. Right now—I need you to take me to the off-base hospital just outside the base: Bon Secours-St Francis Xavier Hospital."

"Hang on. Before we go—" She paused, collecting her thoughts. "Other than dad—who else knows about this?"

"Denise and a few other people in our group." Turning, I used the bed for leverage as I stood up. She stepped forward, even looking slightly uneasy at my honesty and looped her arm around mine. The house was silent, besides the slight creak of the railing as we moved downstairs.

She helped me sit on the couch. "I'm just going to grab my wallet from upstairs."

"Can you grab my purse from the kitchen? I'll need an ID to show at the gate."

"Yeah." And she disappeared into the kitchen. I sighed softly, trying to keep my own questions at bay. The fact that I couldn't answer any of them was a scary thought, as they were all scattered and strewn around.

Sophie reappeared with my purse in tow and set it down beside me as she passed by. I reached in to make sure that my own wallet was still in there, which is also when I saw that Denise had called and left a message. I had the initial thought to check it later-hesitating too long to make a decision before Sophie came bounding back down the steps.

"Ready?" She had a black purse hanging off her shoulder. I gave her a simple nod, letting my phone drop back into my own purse.


	19. Decisions

When the nurse on shift left the room, was when I felt like I could breathe again. I sat against the edge of my bed, staring out the window, even though it was late now and there wasn't anything worth looking at anyway.

I was supposed to be resting because it was the best thing to do right now, but rather I found my head spinning with some thoughts that led me to the conclusion that this time I would have to make the choice to leave. Not for good, but temporarily. Last time it had been Kevin who had sent me off, and now this time it had to be my decision.

Still I was indecisive—leaving my friends here didn't feel like the best time. Especially with Claudia Joy in a coma, Denise recovering from giving her a kidney and everyone else pulled into different directions.

In my thoughts, I barely noticed that Sophie was in front of me, squeezing into the hospital chair that sat next to my bed. She didn't look any better off than I did. "I called Dad—left him a message."

Nodding, I gave a numb response. "You should go home. Try and get some rest."

She made no move to get up from the chair. "I can't believe I'm saying this . . . but I don't feel like going home to a big empty house."

Leaning against the pillow, I tried to get as comfortable as I could in a hospital setting. "You never told me how dinner was last night. Where did you go?"

"Kelsey and I went to a place that she liked just outside of the base. I can't remember the name of it now—but the food was delicious." Insisting, her eyes dropped back to her phone as if she were reading an important text. "I actually need to make a phone call, so I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Okay." Just as she was about to walk out of the room, I called out to her. "I completely forgot. . . How was dinner last night with Kelsey?"

"It was good. The food was delicious and we had a good time."

"Good." My expression fell, but she didn't seem to notice. "Go make your phone call." She gladly left the room, and I had very unsettling thoughts as I leaned back against the pillow. The last time Sophie had held secrets, I found out that she had been pregnant. This time I didn't know what to think.

Looking over, I saw my purse draped over the back of the chair and sat up. It wasn't far to walk; However for the first time in a long time, I had to ask myself how stable I was to get out of bed, when my body was still shaking.

That question was pretty much non-existent as I threw back the covers anyway—holding onto anything I could as I grabbed my purse and sat back down on the bed. I dug out my phone and finally checked my messages from earlier.

Not like she had any time to say so, but Gloria had gone to visit Denise tonight. When Denise had questioned how things were going, Gloria had told her about Roxy and how she was worried about me—which is what had prompted a voicemail message.

As I looked at the time on my phone, it was rather late. Most likely, Denise was asleep in a hospital bed similar to mine. Even though she had prompted me to call at any time, I didn't have the heart to wake her. Here she was recovering from a rather major surgery, and I knew that if I told her where I was: she might end up recovering back at my house instead of her own. Rather, she would be trying to take care of me instead of recovering.

_"I'll call her tomorrow" _Putting both my phone and purse on the stand next to the bed, I settled in for a long night. Just about the same time that I had closed my eyes, my phone buzzed. By the second time, it was buzzing in long intervals which told me someone was actually calling me this time.

Giving up on sleep for the time being, I grabbed my phone and was slightly surprised to see that Denise was calling me at this hour. At first I wanted to ignore it, but then thought that it could potentially be some important news about Claudia Joy. I wanted to believe that something had changed about it, but instead I let her call go to voicemail.

That was until she called again right after the first one, so I decided that I better answer this time. "Denise."

"Hey, Jackie. Did I wake you?"

"No, I think I've pretty much given up on sleeping tonight. What are you doing up? You just had major surgery."

"I know. You'd think I could sleep, but honestly I haven't gotten too much of it since I found out that Claudia Joy was in a coma. Speaking of worrying—Gloria told me that you came to visit her tonight and that Roxy was in the hospital."

"I only heard that she had an emergency—she seemed fine this afternoon. Is there anything that we can do?"

"Gloria said that she's going to be released later tonight if everything goes well, and that Roxy will probably be taking it easy for the next couple of days. I hope to see her later this week."

"I'll see if I can bring her something later on—I still need to return the bowl she put soup in as a get well gesture." I noted in my head, while trying to get comfortable in bed.

"She always brings the biggest bowls of soup. I always wonder how she has time to make everything, run a bar and juggle two children."

"It's not easy."

"So I've been told many times, as I'm sure you have." She laughed uneasily, and I wondered if she was thinking about Jeremy and Molly, just like I was thinking of Patrick and Sophie. "How are things going with Sophie?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure." I glanced towards the closed door, thinking that Sophie would be coming back any minute.

"What makes you think that?"

"Call it mother's intuition. That and it seems like every time I call her, she seems like she wants to get off the minute she hears my voice."

Denise paused for a moment to reflect. "I'm not sure that's entirely true. Most children don't think that they need their mothers growing up, until they start to realize that mom has answers and the love and support that they need to make it through something big."

"You're probably right." I tried to keep the emotion from my voice. "Who's taking care of Molly?"

"Joan and Roland, which is why we're not seeing a lot of him these days." She laughed, before letting out a groan. "I can't believe that it's midnight already."

"We should both get some rest."

"That sounds like a good idea." She paused again. "Just promise me something—"

"Yeah—"

"That you'll hang on. Things are going to worse before they get better."

"I know."

"I'll call you tomorrow?"

"Sure."

"Goodnight, Jackie."

"Goodnight."


End file.
